Justin Peacock

by Blind Man's Alley (v5)

  “I’ll see what the witness has to say,” Judge Lasky said. “But, Mr. Riley, let’s not have any song and dance here, understood?”

  Leah studied this woman Alena. She looked to be in her late twenties, dressed well, surprisingly composed under the circumstances. Then again, with her looks she was probably used to being the center of attention, Leah thought. Then it came to her: this woman must know her brother. Was she the woman who had told her brother about the reporter? If so, what was she doing here in court?

  Once Alena was sworn in on the witness stand, Duncan led her through just a few background questions before getting to the point. “Ms. Porter, do you know Jeremy Roth?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “How do you know him?”

  “We dated.”

  “Did you and Jeremy Roth ever discuss the Aurora Tower?”

  “Yes.”

  “On how many occasions did you discuss it?”

  “Three that I can think of.”

  “Did you discuss the accident at the Aurora?”

  “Some.”

  But Duncan wasn’t quite ready to get into the heart of Alena’s testimony. “Did Jeremy Roth ever say anything regarding Pellettieri Concrete’s work at the Aurora?”

  “Objection,” Blake said quickly. “Hearsay, Your Honor.”

  “It’s a party admission,” Duncan said to the judge, invoking one of the exceptions to the rule against hearsay testimony.

  “Jeremy Roth isn’t a party to this matter,” Blake rejoined. “So nothing he said could be a party admission.”

  “Obviously the nature of the present hearing complicates who the parties are,” Duncan said. He’d been expecting Blake to raise hearsay issues, knew that he was on thin ice in that regard, but hoped the unusual circumstances would get him some leeway. “If the court isn’t willing to treat Mr. Roth’s statements as party admissions, they are statements in furtherance of a conspiracy and against penal interest, and therefore exceptions to hearsay.”

  Lasky looked at Duncan for a long moment before turning back to Blake. “The hearsay issues here are complicated, especially given the unusual procedural posture of this hearing. Since there’s no jury, and I’m still unclear as to the nature of the evidence Mr. Riley intends to introduce, I’m inclined not to rule on the hearsay issues until I know where this is going. You’ll have a standing objection, Mr. Blake. Mr. Riley, you shouldn’t assume that any arguably hearsay evidence you present will ultimately be considered by me. I may well strike all of it. Clear?”

  Duncan nodded, figuring this was as good as he could hope for. He turned back to Alena. “The question, Ms. Porter, was whether Jeremy Roth ever told you anything regarding Pellettieri Concrete and the Aurora?”

  “He told me he knew they were skimming money.”

  “If he knew about that, why didn’t he put a stop to it?”

  “Most of the money was going to Jeremy. He was basically pocketing company money out of the project through the concrete company.”

  Duncan paused, wanting to let this sink in to the judge. Blake stood once again. “Your Honor, even if these accusations were true, of what possible relevance are they to the murder case before this court?”

  “That will be clear quite soon, Your Honor,” Duncan said quickly. Judge Lasky gestured for him to continue.

  “Did you ever have a conversation with Jeremy Roth regarding the accident at the Aurora?”

  “Yeah. He felt guilty about it, because he knew how the concrete guys were cutting corners.”

  “What, if anything else, did he tell you about the accident?”

  “He told me he was being blackmailed because of it.”

  “Did he say anything regarding who was blackmailing him?”

  Alena glanced over at Leah before answering. For a moment the two women just stared at each other, as though they were the only people in the room. Then Alena turned back to Duncan, her composure showing a crack for the first time since she’d taken the stand. “It was Sean Fowler,” she said.

  “When did Jeremy Roth tell you that Sean Fowler had been blackmailing him?”

  “Two days ago.”

  Leah couldn’t believe what she was hearing. If this woman was telling the truth, Jeremy had not only told her his darkest secrets, but had done so on the eve of this hearing. Did he want to get caught? She knew her brother was self-destructive, but this was something else entirely.

  “Did you and Jeremy Roth ever discuss the murder of Sean Fowler?”

  Blake again stood. “Your Honor, I must object. This is rank hearsay. If Mr. Riley wanted Jeremy Roth’s testimony, he could’ve called him as a witness. If Ms. Porter has no direct knowledge, she shouldn’t be testifying.”

  “As I said, Mr. Blake, I’m going to reserve ruling until I know where this is going,” Judge Lasky said. “You may proceed, Mr. Riley.”

  Duncan nodded, turning back to Alena, who had remained impassive throughout the back-and-forth. “You can answer, Ms. Porter.”

  “We did discuss the murder, yes.”

  “Did Jeremy Roth explain to you how Sean Fowler came to be in a position to blackmail him?”

  “He told me Fowler was involved with the skimming at the Aurora, as a go-between, I guess.”

  “Did Mr. Roth tell you anything else about his interaction with Sean Fowler?”

  “Jeremy told me that he paid Fowler off, but that he came back for more. That’s why he was killed.”

  “What, if anything else, did Jeremy Roth tell you about Fowler’s death?”

  “He said he didn’t have anything directly to do with it. That his sister made the arrangements, working with these security guards they used.”

  Blake had again stood. “This has become utterly outrageous, Your Honor. It’s all unsupported. Leah Roth tells me she’s never even heard of this woman who is making these outlandish accusations. I have no idea whether Jeremy Roth has actually ever met her.”

  “I have no objection if Mr. Blake would like an opportunity right now to probe the basis for Ms. Porter’s testimony,” Duncan said calmly.

  Blake glanced over at Duncan, his suspicion of the offer doing battle with his need to derail Alena’s testimony.

  “I would like to question this witness, yes,” Blake said after a moment. “But I’d also like at least a few minutes to consult with my client first.”

  “All right, then,” Judge Lasky said. “We’ll take a ten-minute recess to catch our breath, finish with this witness, then see where we are.”

  81

  JEREMY WAS unable to sit still. He was pacing around his office, feeling trapped as he waited for word from his sister about what was happening in court. Jeremy had wanted to go down and see for himself, but Blake had strictly forbidden it. So he’d come to work, despite knowing he wasn’t going to even attempt to be productive.

  His sister hadn’t seemed especially worried about the court proceeding, or at least she’d put on a brave front. Leah continued to insist that nobody had any actual evidence linking the family to any murders, and that all she had to do was deny the lawyer’s accusations. Even if true, that still left the prospect of the reporter running a story.

  All of this because he’d taken some of his own money. That was all he’d done, really, taken a loan from his future self. Why should anyone even care? Yet out of that, five people had died.

  And now his father was in the mix too, although he was being characteristically tight-lipped about what he was doing. In fact, they hadn’t spoken at all since Jeremy had come clean to him. Jeremy had expected it to be an ugly conversation, but Simon’s response had been even worse than he’d been braced for. He honestly wasn’t sure if his father would ever speak to him again, but he did know that Simon was trying to prevent the story from coming out.

  Jeremy’s office phone rang. He checked the caller ID, saw that it was his sister, and grabbed it. “Is the court thing over?”

  “What does Alena Porter know?” Leah said.

 
; Jeremy’s mind reeled as he tried to imagine why Leah was asking him that. “Alena? Is she there?”

  “What does she fucking know, Jeremy?”

  He heard a tinny echo in her voice. “Am I on speaker?” he asked, stalling.

  “Hello, Jeremy,” Blake said. “It’s important that this call be privileged.”

  “Having a lawyer on the phone with you is the sort of thing you’re supposed to tell a person,” Jeremy said to his sister.

  “Now’s not the time for your shit, Jeremy,” Leah said. “Alena Porter.”

  “What’s happening there?” Jeremy replied. “What does Alena have to do with anything?”

  “We don’t have much time,” Blake said. “Do you know this woman?”

  “Fuck. Fine. Yes. So?”

  “She’s testifying against us,” Leah said. “She’s claiming you basically admitted everything to her.”

  Jeremy couldn’t understand how that was possible. Alena was the one who’d warned him about the reporter. They’d left things in a good place two nights ago, even if not completely resolved. Alena had said she wasn’t ready to move back to the apartment, had refused to go there with Jeremy the night they’d met for a drink, saying she needed some time to process everything. Jeremy hadn’t pressed it, especially in light of the conversation they’d just had, but he’d kissed her good-bye, a real kiss, with clearly implied promises of things to come. She’d make him work a little more, but he was sure that was all it was, just wanting him to pay some more dues before she came back to him. And now she was somehow in court, testifying against him? Was she telling them all the things he’d told her the other night? Could she be doing that?

  “This Alena Porter is claiming to have dated you,” Blake said. “She’s testified that you told her that you were taking money out of the Aurora, using Fowler as a middleman, and that he blackmailed you about it after the accident. She alleges that your sister then engineered Fowler’s death. Did you actually tell her these things?”

  “Jesus Christ,” Jeremy muttered. For a long moment it was the only thing anyone said.

  “I need to know every speck of dirt you have on this girl,” Blake finally said. “Anything I can use to hurt her, I need right now.”

  82

  WHAT DO you do for a living, Ms. Porter?” Steven Blake asked once court had resumed. They’d ended up breaking for fifteen minutes, everyone dispersing to their separate corners to confer. Duncan had left with Alena, spent the time huddled with her on a bench in the hall. He’d exchanged a glance with Rafael, but hadn’t talked to him. Duncan hadn’t been able to get a read on what his former client was making of all this.

  “I’m a model,” Alena replied, regarding Blake warily. Duncan had done his best to prep her for being crossed in the little time they’d had, but he knew she wasn’t close to fully prepared for it.

  “When was the last time you worked?”

  Alena’s hesitation was noticeable. “I’m not sure,” she said after a moment. “It’s been almost two months, maybe.”

  “Where do you live, Ms. Porter?”

  “Right now I’m staying at a friend’s who’s out of town. I’m looking for my own place.”

  “And where were you living before that?”

  Alena again hesitated. “In an apartment on the West Side.”

  “Were you paying rent on this apartment?”

  “Jeremy Roth owned it. He let me stay there.”

  “You lived in this apartment by yourself?” Blake said, picking up his pace in a way Duncan recognized, trying to establish a rhythm.

  “Jeremy stayed there sometimes, but he didn’t live there.”

  “And Mr. Roth let you stay in this apartment for free?”

  “Yes.”

  “And this was while you were romantically involved with Mr. Roth?”

  “Yes.”

  “You are no longer involved with Mr. Roth?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Where did you and Mr. Roth meet?”

  “At a nightclub.”

  “A nightclub,” Blake repeated, the insinuation clear. “Did someone introduce the two of you?”

  “One of the owners did, yes.”

  “Was the owner a friend of yours?”

  “We’ve known each other for a while,” Alena said.

  “Is he in the habit of introducing you to rich men?”

  Duncan was quickly to his feet, not having to feign his anger. “Objection,” he said. “This is badgering, and it’s irrelevant.”

  “I’m simply exploring the motivation that brought this witness to court today, Your Honor.”

  Lasky gave Blake a long look. “Move forward, Mr. Blake,” he said.

  “Was there a specific incident that caused you to move out of the free apartment that Mr. Roth had supplied you with?”

  “I don’t think it was that simple.”

  “Were you out with Mr. Roth and another man the night before you moved out?”

  Duncan didn’t know anything about this. There was only so much you could do to prepare a witness who didn’t tell you everything. If Alena was about to get embarrassed, she was just going to have to take the hit. “Yes.”

  “A business acquaintance of Mr. Roth’s?”

  “I guess.”

  “And at some point in the evening, Mr. Roth went home, and you stayed out with this other man.”

  Alena looked at Blake, her sharp cheekbones heightened by her clenched jaw. “I’m not a whore,” she said, her voice quiet but with a faint tremor.

  Blake feigned confusion. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me,” Alena said.

  “I don’t believe I suggested that you were a prostitute, Ms. Porter,” Blake said with a slight smile. “But you are an unemployed model who lives off of rich men who you are introduced to at nightclubs; we have agreed on that, yes?”

  “Your Honor,” Duncan protested.

  Lasky shook his head at Blake. “There’s no jury here for you to inflame, Mr. Blake,” he said. “Get to the point.”

  Blake nodded, not looking away from Alena. “You were angry at Mr. Roth for leaving you with this other man, weren’t you?”

  “Actually, Mattar and I ended up having quite an interesting conversation that night,” Alena replied.

  Blake resisted any impulse to inquire, following the rule of thumb that a lawyer on cross-examination shouldn’t ask questions he didn’t already know the answer to. “But you were angry at Mr. Roth for how he treated you that night, were you not?”

  “I was disappointed with Jeremy, I suppose, yes.”

  “You thought that you were in a serious relationship with Mr. Roth, and were surprised to learn that his view was quite different, correct?”

  “I wouldn’t agree with that at all, actually.”

  Blake wasn’t really trying to get concessions from her anymore, Duncan knew. At this point Blake’s focus was on the questions themselves, endeavoring to establish a scenario in the judge’s mind regardless of what answers Alena gave. Duncan felt bad for her, but he figured it was soon coming to an end. “Isn’t it a fact, Ms. Porter, that you are angry at Mr. Roth, that you are looking to get revenge on him, and that you fabricated your testimony here today in order to do so?”

  Alena didn’t react to the heightened bluster. “That’s not true.”

  “You are clearly the very definition of a woman scorned. Why should this court put any stock in this story you’ve put forward?”

  Alena looked to Duncan, who was doing his best to keep his poker face as he offered her a slight nod. “Because I have it on tape,” she said.

  83

  SIMON ROTH prided himself on his ability to get a good night’s sleep. No matter how much pressure he was facing, no matter how many hundreds of millions of dollars were hanging in the balance, Simon had always been able to unplug from it all and sleep through the night. He considered it proof of his strength of will.

  But last night he’d barely managed an hour�
��s sleep, and today he was so distracted that he couldn’t even escape into his work. He’d come to the office, tried to go about a normal day, but he wasn’t hearing anything that anybody said to him.

  Never in his life had he had more at stake in a single day. His daughter was being dragged into court by a lawyer who was intent on accusing his family of murder and corruption. A reporter was putting together a story making the same accusations. He was less concerned with the lawyer, who would need hard evidence, while the reporter could use rumor and innuendo. Simon had his counterattacks in place, and now there was nothing for him to do but wait to see if they worked.

  He should have seen it coming. If it hadn’t been his own children, he would’ve caught it. But he’d made a point of giving Jeremy and Leah room to operate, however against his nature it went. While Simon was in no hurry to retire, the reality was that he needed to start handing over the reins if he wanted his children to be ready to take over the company. So he’d given Jeremy control over the Aurora, stayed out of the way. Even after the three workers were killed, he hadn’t really gotten involved: accidents happened in construction, and Simon had seen no reason to think it had anything to do with his company.

  Then Jeremy had come to him yesterday, confessed a story whose sheer awfulness Simon was still unable to fully bring himself to contemplate. Simon was good at dealing with crises: although he had a famous temper, it was mostly under his control, something he utilized strategically. In the face of disaster he could be the calmest person in the room. So he’d set aside his vast disappointment and focused on finding out what exactly their exposure was.

  “The reporter’s telling people she has the whole story?” Simon had asked his son after hearing his confession. “That she’s going to print it?”

  Jeremy nodded. “Leah thinks she might be bluffing.”

  Simon thought that possibility was a luxury they couldn’t afford to believe in. “She’s a reporter who’s out to get us, and now here’s your head on a plate. She can do what the media always do when they can’t actually prove anything, say that questions have been raised, suspicions, that kind of bullshit. And once it sees print, even as a rumor, we’re never going to outrun it.”